Russia The Catalyst Ivan Braginski
by UraharaSteph
Summary: Russia is all alone in a blizzard, thinking about everything and everyone he's done and met. This is just pure angst, no love, no friendship, just Russia, his solitude and love for War.


Russia/Ivan - The Catalyst

At first there was nothing but silence enclosed around the tall nation. Russia sulked in his solitude, and embraced the bitter hug of the wintry blizzard. His fingers tightened their grip around the neck of the vodka bottle, as a solitary tear left a trail down his cheek. It iced over immediately. Russia couldn't even cry anymore… everything had been taken away from him.

Everywhere he ran to there were more guns pointed. They weren't directed at him though, no, they were his guns being aligned with the hearts of soldiers from other countries. Everyone was terrified of the snowy nation. Russia can't be outfought. Russia can't be outdone. Russia can't be outmatch and can't be outrun. No, you had to submit to Russia, become one with Russia, or else you'd be crushed by his might.

Yet, Ivan found himself all alone, in the heart of a chill that would never melt. It confused him as to why the countries around him trembled and lived in fear. Lithuania, Estonia and Latvia, they were the worst. They always grew pale when Russia was around and although Ivan tried to hide his annoyance and upset, for some reason the countries still shook like leaves in a hurricane when he was around. They were broken people living under his loaded gun.

Russia lay his head down onto the bed of snow and his face was quickly pelted by snow. The sky was so bright, so white, so pure. It was as though heaven's light was shining down on him. Ivan didn't believe in God, but the angelic glow still felt soft on his face. The roaring winds became a calming melody of the purity in the sky, and Russia felt as though he'd be able to drift to sleep in the snow and not have to worry about the other countries disliking him.

As Ivan attempted to fall asleep in the irregular comfort of the sub-zero flurry, unwanted memories blossomed to the front of his mind. The last time he had laid in the snow was when she… was when SHE froze to death. His memories of her had been left to decay in the cold along with her corpse. Russia suddenly bolted his body up, sitting straight and glaring out into the ongoing uproar of snow. He could hear the echo of his personal radio. He had thought someone was there with him, but he had been mistaken.

Buried under the blanket of white, Russia found his earlier vodka bottle and his radio. It was China's voice, but it was faint and crackled. Ivan couldn't make out the phantom words and in anger threw it against the blustery weather, until the wind swallowed up the remaining traces of China trying to reach out to his allied friend. Russia was in a world far from anyone else, where the ocean bleeds into the sky, a world far away from you and I. He was in a dark and unfriendly world of despair… and he was there all alone.

"God save us everyone, will we burn inside the fires of a thousand suns? For the sins of our hands, for the sins of our tongue? For the sins of our father, the sins of our son?" Twice the feminine voice sang the verse, and as the shadowy silhouette of her figure drew nearer to Russia, he began to get excited. Someone had braved all obstacles and come to bless him with their company.

Once she was close enough though, Russia saw her… The one he had earlier thought of. The corpse he had left behind. The broken person he had cried over and tried to forget about. The crimson blood staining her elegant clothes stood out against the bland whiteness. Russia rose, his knees wobbling, barely holding him up. His violent eyes quivered and tears flowed freely, not freezing over anymore; because the blush on his cheeks kept them warm.

"M-My old friend.. Is it really you?" Ivan queried before he trudged over to her and wrapped his arms around her. Her black hair seemed endless, her pale skin shimmered, the bags under her eyes represented insomnia, the soulless glare in hey dark irises represented heartlessness. Her body was strong, but practically nothing but bones, and as Russia pushed himself against her desperate for her to except him, the blood rubbed off onto his hands. "How I've missed you, my dearest friend, my only love… Oh.. War. I thought you were dead…"

The female smiled and patted him gently on the back. "Russia, my dearest Soviet, I am immortal. I will stop my mother from ever giving birth to Peace, I'll destroy every foetus my sluttish mother bestows the name upon. Russia… Lift me up… let me go… let my power bring you more friends and land…"

"War… I…" Russia closed his eyes. What should he do? He had been so lonely though. Through the power of war he could take more land, meet new people, for new alliances and marriages. Russia would no longer be lonely! Right?… RIGHT! The catalyst all alone for his odd behaviour… was just his loneliness.


End file.
